


Next Time Is Now

by MCRmyGeneral



Series: Phone Calls and Promises [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Blow Jobs, Break Up, Erectile Dysfunction, Fluff, M/M, Medication, Phone Sex, Post Season 7, Secrets, Smut, Surprise blow jobs, bad blow jobs, head - Freeform, mentions of abuse, unplanned sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 19:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9840497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCRmyGeneral/pseuds/MCRmyGeneral
Summary: Mickey was closer now that he'd been to Ian in a long time. Closer, but still too damn far away. He was pulling Ian away, and Ian was just fine with that. Mickey could pull all he wanted to; Ian would happily oblige.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really wasn't intending on making this a sequel, but everyone asked me to write more, so I figured 'Why not?'. I actually really like it, especially since I love writing smut. Enjoy...I

Ian moaned slightly in his sleep, which made Trevor smirk. What was _he_ dreaming about?

Trevor pursed his lips and thought. He wanted to give Ian the wake-up call of a lifetime. He lifted the blanket and sank beneath it, crawling down until he was met with the waistband of Ian’s pajamas. He kissed the skin right above the fabric softly, and pulled his clothing down slowly. He licked a stripe up his hand and slowly started jerking Ian’s soft cock, hoping to get him hard and in his mouth before he woke up.

Ian moaned again, still asleep, which Trevor took as a good sign. Ian was hardening a little in his hand, so he dove in and wrapped his lips around Ian’s still-mostly soft dick, hoping to bring him to full mast using only his mouth.

Ian’s eyes popped open when he felt wet warmth enveloping him. At first he was excited; wake-up blowjobs were some of his favorite blowjobs. Then he frowned. Blowjobs from Trevor were not.

He felt like an asshole for that, because he really did like crawling around under the covers with him, but Trevor just wasn’t the best at head. Ian could usually get off, just with a little work from his own imagination along with Trevor’s mouth.

Trevor was working for it, but Ian couldn’t bring himself to fully harden. He just really wasn’t feeling it right now. Trevor was trying, really trying, but it just wasn’t happening. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was his meds. But it had been months since he’d been stricken limp from the antidepressants. He had it under control. He sighed, and Trevor threw the blankets back over his head.

“Hey,” He said breathless.

Ian grimaced. “Morning.”

Trevor frowned. “Everything okay?”

“You tell me,” Ian answered with a raised eyebrow.

Trevor smiled smally. “I’m working on it.”

Ian shook his head. “Don’t bother; it’s not happening.”

“Oh,” Trevor furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s not you,” Ian lied, reaching down and tucking himself back into his pajama pants. He sat up, and Trevor did the same. “It’s the meds. Antidepressants. As if this fuckin’ disease wasn’t bad enough, now I can’t even get it up half the time,” He muttered, hoping he sounded honestly annoyed.

Trevor smiled sympathetically. “Hey, it’s okay. We can try again later, huh?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

Ian smiled at his boyfriend, leaning in for a quick kiss. He could try all he wanted, but Ian was 99% sure that the medication was _not_ what was keeping him flaccid.

“I gotta go; I have a meeting with a local shelter this morning. Text me later when you want to get together, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ian said sadly.

Trevor threw a shirt on and lifted Ian’s eyes to look at him. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’d rather have you limp than depressed.”

Ian chuckled and kissed Trevor’s hand, smiling at him as he walked out the door. He counted to thirty in his head before he kicked the door shut and flopped back down on the bed.

He felt like a prick. Trevor really was trying, and Ian knew he was. But he knew how douchey it sounded; you suck at head and I have to work to keep it up when you suck me off? That was such an asshole way to think, but it was true. And it’s fucking head! Even a bad blowjob is still a good blowjob, right? No, maybe it wasn’t that Trevor was bad at it, he just wasn’t as good as Ian was used to. He didn’t suck dick like Mickey did.

Mickey had something special about his mouth. He had all these oral tics that would come out when he was nervous, like licking and biting his lips and running his tongue along his teeth. Ian had known long before Mickey had gone down on him for the first time that he’d be absolutely amazing at it. The way that tongue moved…

When Mickey finally had worked up the balls to go down on Ian, Ian had blown his load almost instantly. Mickey had insisted that he’d never blown anyone before, and Ian was grateful to be his maiden voyage. He was absolutely ridiculous at it, the way he swirled his tongue and hollowed his throat and moved his lips, it was like he was a professional cock-sucker.

Just the thought of Mickey blowing him had Ian’s dick twitching, and he was in disbelief to see that he was half-hard and getting harder. He lifted the blanket thrown across his waist, and sure enough, he had pitched a tent.

“Are you fucking serious?” He asked, looking down at his dick.

He threw off the blanket and sighed. Might as well make the most of it. He pushed his pajamas down his thighs and gripped his dick firmly, bringing back those memories of Mickey on his knees, tattooed fingers wrapped around his dick, a hand sinking into deep black hair, ice blue eyes staring up at him, spit-slick lips stretched around him, smiling as Ian shot against the back of his throat, rough, dirty kisses shared, the taste of himself on his boyfriend’s tongue.

Ian didn’t last long, cumming fast and hard, and sinking down into a superficial depression almost immediately. He missed Mickey like crazy. And he didn’t just miss the lust-driven, carnal, erotic side of Mickey. He could find someone else to suck him off like a porn star, and though it wouldn’t be Mickey, it would still be great. No, he missed the soft, sweet, protective, caring, gentle Mickey that only he knew. Those parts of Mickey were reserved for him and him alone, and those were the parts he could never recreate with anyone else.

Ian closed his eyes and sighed. If he ever had any doubt that leaving Mickey was the wrong move, he knew it in his heart right now. He had made a mistake, and he knew it. Who’d have thought that a shitty blowjob would bring about this epiphany?

****

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Ian sighed with a grimace, stirring his eggs.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re fucking lying to me, Gallagher. I can hear it in your voice. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Ian half-smiled. Mickey knew him so well. “Trevor issues.”

Mickey chuckled, and it made Ian smile. “You called me to talk about your boyfriend problems?”

“That’s not why I called you, you fuck,” Ian laughed as he spooned his scrambled eggs onto a plate. He picked up his phone and turned the speaker off, retreating into the living room with his breakfast.

“Well, don’t hold back. Tell me all about it!” Mickey said sarcastically.

“You sound like a teenage girl,” Ian mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

“Fuck off. What’s going on?”

Ian sighed. “Trevor tried to blow me this morning.”

“ _Tried to_?”

“I couldn’t get hard,” He admitted reluctantly.

“So? Don’t beat yourself up over it; it’s the cocktail of antidepressants swimmin’ through your blood. It’s not your fault.”

Ian sighed again. “It’s not the meds.”

“No?” Mickey asked, genuinely confused.

Ian grumbled. “No.”

“What is it, then?”

Ian blew out a breath through his nose. “He’s not very good at it.”

He had to hold the phone away from his ear to keep from going deaf. Mickey was laughing hysterically for a good two minutes before Ian could safely bring the phone back to his ear.

“Fuck off!” He yelled, though Mickey couldn’t hear it over his own cackling. Ian could picture him, rolling around on the floor, holding his stomach, his phone lying forgotten on the ground next to him. His laughter was infectious, and Ian started chuckling, too. “You’re an asshole,” He said with a smile as Mickey’s giggles finally died down.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey lied, still chuckling, “I really am. But this is the greatest news I’ve ever heard.”

Ian smiled through his scowl. “No, it’s not! I feel really bad! I mean, he gets an A for effort, just…” He trailed off with a shake of his head, searching for the words.

“Just?”

“He takes it in too far too quickly and doesn’t have any sense of rhythm and sometimes he slips and uses his teeth too much, and sometimes it feels like a blow-up doll. He just doesn’t…” He sighed. “He doesn’t do it like you do.”

“Hey, _hey_ , hey,” Mickey said, a smile in his voice. “What was that you just said?”

Ian rolled his eyes. “You give the best blowjobs, Mick. His are decent, I guess, but compared to yours, they’re freaking horrible.”

“You’re a bad boyfriend.”

“Fuck off!” Ian chuckled. “I feel so bad about it,” He admitted with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, sorry, but I’m not gonna be sympathetic about the fact that your man on the side gives bad head.”

“Don’t worry; I didn’t expect you to,” Ian quipped, rolling his eyes. “Trevor thinks it’s the meds fucking with me.”

Mickey scoffed. “ _I_ managed to get you hard, even _with_ the meds.”

“Yeah, I know you did,” Ian grumbled reluctantly. “You’re not helping me by reminding me how much better you are at sucking dick than he is.”

“Yeah, cuz improving your sex life with someone else is my top priority.”

“That is _so_ not the point.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? Want me to get on the phone with him and give him tips on how to suck dick?”

“No, I want-” He cut himself off.

“You want what?”

Ian threw his head back and sighed heavily, his breakfast long forgotten. “I want _you_ to suck my dick.”

Mickey said nothing for a moment, the silence ringing between the two. “I’m sorry I can’t be there,” He said softly, emotionally. Then the emotion dropped away. “To show your boyfriend the proper way to suck you off,” He finished with another laugh.

Ian groaned. “Thanks, Mick.”

“Happy to help. I gotta go; I got work.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “You work?”

“What, do you think I’m livin’ on the streets? Yeah, I got a job. I’m bartending. I got a place of my own, too.”

“Really?” Ian asked, impressed.

“Big enough for two,” Mickey hinted, and Ian smiled.

“One day, I promise. I’ll make my way to you.”

“I’m holdin’ you to that,” Mickey teased. “I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye.”

Ian hung up the phone, not surprisingly feeling absolutely no better about his Trevor/blowjob issue. But he always did enjoy getting to talk to Mickey, something he could only do so often, when the house was empty and he was alone, or when on his nights spent in that apartment above the Alibi, carefully arranged (in secret) by Kev.

He finished his cold eggs and walked upstairs to get ready for work.

****

“Again?”

Ian blew out a breath. _Stop trying to blow me and I’ll stop embarrassing you_ , he thought. “Yeah. Looks like it.”

Trevor frowned, and Ian couldn’t tell if it was from the limp dick or his tone. “It’s been like, a week. Can’t you get your meds adjusted?”

Ian furrowed his brow. “Why? I’m stable, and you want me to fuck with that because I’m having trouble getting it up?” He asked, a little more bite to his voice than he intended, especially considering he was lying.

Trevor recoiled, and Ian immediately felt guilty. He reached a hand out to settle on Trevor’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry. This is just as frustrating for me as it is for you.”

“I get it,” Trevor said flatly as he hauled himself back onto the couch from where he’d been nestled between Ian’s knees. He settled next to Ian, and Ian noticed that he kept a good two inches between them.

“Are you mad?”

Trevor blew out a breath, not looking away from the TV. “No.”

“You’re a shitty liar.”

Trevor pursed his lips and started picking at his fingernails, still not looking at Ian. “I just don’t remember you ever having boner issues when you’re trying to fuck me.”

Ian scoffed. “Well, I’m sorry that my dick’s being picky and choosy about when it wants to harden. I’m the one getting cockblocked by the fucking meds, here.”

“Are you?” Trevor snapped, finally turning his head Ian’s way.

“ _Excuse_ you?”

“I don’t think this is a medication issue. I don’t turn you on,” He said softly.

Ian sighed. “That’s not it. Well… Not exactly.”

Trevor scoffed. “What, do I give shitty head?”

Ian grimaced and looked to the floor.

Trevor’s jaw dropped. “Were you gonna tell me?”

“How do I tell you that?”

Trevor sat with his arms crossed and sucked his teeth.

“Exactly,” Ian said. “I’m sorry.”

Trevor sighed. “Don’t worry about it. I, uh, I should get to bed.”

“Yeah,” Ian said softly. He stood and grabbed his hoodie. “I’ll see ya.”

Trevor didn’t answer or move to kiss him, he just nodded. Ian walked out, feeling both like an absolute asshole and like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.

He turned toward his home, savoring the long walk. He’d need the time to think.

****

_third time the charm?_

Ian huffed at his phone.

**no.**

_that it? you dont wanna elaborate?_

**no.**

_he pissed?_

**he knows its not the meds; i told him last time he tried.**

_no way! you actually told him he gives shitty head?_

Ian scoffed. **he made me!**

_you told him and he actually tried again?_

**it was…… better…..?** He typed with a grimace. **i guess. still not great, though.**

_he break up with you?_

**no. but i wouldnt blame him. im an ass.**

_yeah, but its a damn fine ass. dont worry about it, man._

**i feel shitty BECAUSE im not worried about it. i mean, i really like trevor, but i feel like hes just a stand-in.**

_damn right he is. i am irreplaceable, motherfucker._

Ian chuckled at his phone screen.

**thats a big word, mick. been reading the dictionary?**

_fuck off._

**think i should end it?**

Ians phone buzzed impossibly fast.

_yeah._

**you know what i mean! im not in love with him, and now it just seems like were falling apart more and more every day. and the worst part is that i kinda dont care.**

_well, theres your answer. you dont care about where the relationship goes. i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that usually means its curtains._

A second later, Ian’s phone buzzed again.

_he know about me?_

Ian sighed. **he knows about us and how things were with us. he knows what you are to me.**

_and he knows hell never replicate that?_

**yeah, im pretty sure. i think hes grasping at straws with this relationship.**

_if you dont want to be with him, and it sounds like you dont, kick him to the curb._

Ian ran a hand through his hair. **i dont know what i want. the only thing im certain about is you.**

_well, arent you flattering?_

**shut up. maybe thats why we havent been the same lately. because youre always on my mind, even more than you used to be. i think its cuz we get to talk so much now. im pulling away, and he can feel it.**

_he knows the relationship is meaningless. its as much his fault as yours. he should have more respect for himself._

Ian chuckled. **are you saying you think my boyfriend should break up with me?**

_im saying that i dont think either of you are entirely happy. why keep up the act?_

Ian sighed again, then chuckled. **thanks for the relationship advice.**

_its all an act. i want you all to myself._

**im yours. theres no competition, mick. ill call you tomorrow night, ok?**

_yep. Night._

**good night, mick.**

Ian set his phone on his nightstand and looked out his window. Shit. Mickey was right. His and Trevor’s relationship was 100% superficial, which didn’t help anyone. Ian was dreading being alone, but Trevor deserved better than a relationship where Ian had one foot out the door at all times.

He sighed and stood up to get dressed.

****

“Hey,” Trevor sighed as he stepped out the door and onto his front porch.

Ian rubbed his hands together. “Hey.”

Trevor frowned. “So this is how it ends.”

Ian’s brow furrowed. “How did y-”

Trevor scoffed. “We’ve barely spoken in the past week. You’re never _there_. You’re always distracted. And now, you’ve come knocking at my door at 2 AM. It doesn’t take a scholar to figure it out,” He sighed.

Ian blinked slowly. “I’m sorry.”

Trevor scoffed again. “Yeah, _sure_ you are.”

Ian’s eyes turned angry. “I _am_ , whether you believe it or not.”

Trevor scowled. “Are you really breaking up with me because I give bad blowjobs?”

“Of course not. I just…” Ian trailed off with a shrug.

“I knew this wasn’t gonna last forever. You’re still too far up your ex’s ass,” Trevor spat with a sarcastic chuckle.

Ian’s frown settled into an angry scowl. “You don’t know anything about my ex.”

Trevor rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I know he was a criminal. I know he was ashamed of himself and of you. I know he had a wife and a kid he abandoned when he was thrown in _federal_ prison after he tried to kill your sister.”

Ian’s mouth hardened with Trevor’s every word. He clenched his fists in anger, fingernails digging into his palm.

“I know he’s trash.”

Ian lost control and flung himself at Trevor, grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him against his front door. Trevor’s eyes widened in fear. He knew Ian wasn’t gonna hit him, but that didn’t stop his blood from running cold at the fire in the boy’s eyes. He’d pissed him off something fierce, and he knew it. Mickey was off limits, and pulling this on Ian was an extremely low blow.

“You don’t know _shit_ about Mickey,” Ian growled, low and dangerous. “Mickey was the best thing to ever happen to me. He pried me out of a manipulative relationship with my married boss when I was only fifteen years old. He gave me a place to stay when my siblings and I were thrown in foster care. He pulled me out of a downward spiral of every kind of drug imaginable. He stopped me from possibly getting raped or murdered by someone who was trying to bring me home with him when I was seventeen because I was too coked-out to realize the danger I was putting myself in. He came out to his abusive, homophobic father, who had already found us together and beaten the hell out of both of us, and he did it for me. He was there the whole time I was going through the mania, the depression. He stuck by me even after I kidnapped his child during a psychotic break. I flushed my meds down the toilet, I purposely laid my hand against a blistering grilltop, I was arrested by the military police for going AWOL. I ditched my entire family and ran off with my unmedicated mother. I ignored him for days while I was getting my medications straight. I pushed him away time and time again but he stuck by me. He took care of me. He kept track of my meds, made sure I took them, made sure I was as healthy as I could be. He kept me alive during the worst times of my life. Whenever I was in a bad place, he was there. I dumped him after he basically offered to marry me, and he still called me from prison, begged me to visit him, he tattooed my fucking name on his chest,” Ian recalled, breathing heavy.

Trevor’s eyes widened. Ian had never mentioned any of this before. Apparently he didn’t know the boy as well as he thought he did. As well as Mickey did.

“Mickey loves me more than anyone else ever has. He is the most important thing I've ever had. He’s done some shitty things and made some shitty decisions, but he’s a good person. He cares about me, and he cares about my family. He loves me.”

Ian released Trevor angrily, taking a step back. Trevor stayed pressed against the door as if held there by Ian’s stare.

“And I love him. I always will.”

Trevor’s eyes closed and opened slowly. He knew that, but hearing Ian actually say those words hurt.

“So I’m sorry about this. I do like you, Trevor. I care about you. But Mickey’s got my heart, and he will for the rest of my life. And as long as he does, I can’t try to fake anything with anyone else.”

Trevor nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Ian whispered. He leaned in and kissed Trevor’s cheek softly.

Then he turned and walked away, not looking back.

****

Ian sat down on the mattress in the now usually abandoned apartment above the Alibi, sighing deeply. He wasn’t ever in a rush these days, which was both comforting and mundane. He loved that he could talk to Mickey all he wanted, but he kind of missed that adrenaline and feeling of crawling out of his skin he always got in the last moments before he could dial this month’s number and hear his boyfriend’s voice again. His now _only_ boyfriend.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing Mickey’s number from memory. It took a while for Mickey to pick up, which made Ian furrow his brow.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Ian asked.

“Yeah, man. Why?”

Ian shrugged. “Took you a minute to pick up.”

“Yeah, I was in the other room,” Mickey said, but Ian thought it sounded forced.

“Okay. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just lying around.”

Ian smiled. “This doesn’t feel the same, does it?”

Mickey chuckled. “No, but that’s good. I’d rather be able to talk to you more often.”

“Me, too. I guess I can stop spending the night here.”

“Where?”

“The apartment where the Rub & Tug used to be. It’s vacant now, and Kev leaves me the keys so I can come here on nights when we can talk. But I really don’t need it anymore.”

“Kev knows?”

Ian grimaced. “Yeah.”

“What the _fuck_ , Gallagher?”

“Calm down, Mick. He’s not gonna say anything. I think he’s more on our side than anybody else. We’re safe.”

Mickey sighed. “Guess I’m not doing us any favors, either,” He muttered.

Ian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Mick…”

“ _Nothing_.”

“Okay,” Ian said with a shrug. Whatever Mickey was trying to keep secret wasn’t important. He took a deep breath. “I broke up with Trevor.”

“You _what_?” Mickey asked, and Ian jumped.

“I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am. Just… Why?”

“I wasn’t in it. And he deserves someone that can give him the attention he needs.”

“Wow, gay.”

“Shut up,” Ian chuckled. “I’ve just found myself comparing him to you more and more these past few weeks, and the more I do that, the more I realize that I’m stuck on you. He was a good distraction, but it’s just not working anymore. I was stupid to think that I could replace you.”

Mickey said nothing, but Ian knew he was smiling.

“God, I miss you so much,” Ian confessed, not noticing the tears that had welled in his eyes until they spilled over his cheeks.

“Don’t, Ian. _Please_ don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” He sniffled, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves. “I can’t help it. I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I know it’s hard, but it’ll be worth it when we’re together again. And we _will_ be together again, I promise you.”

“I know we will.”

“I hate to cut this short, but I need to go.”

Ian scowled. “ _Really_?”

“I know. I’m sorry. But it’s important. Are you gonna stay at the Alibi tonight?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, I already told everyone that I was sleeping at the station tonight, and if I go home, everyone will ask questions.”

“Well, I gotta split. I love you. I’ll see you real soon, okay?”

Ian sighed. “Yeah. I love you, too.”

He hung up the phone and fell back on his mattress. Well, _that_ wasn’t very satisfying. He scowled and rolled over, finishing off his beer and closing his eyes.

****

“Mmmmmmm,” Ian moaned in his sleep when he felt a hand wrap around his cock. The hand pumped him a few times before a warm, tight mouth wrapped around him.

He moaned long and low, his mouth hanging open as he teetered on the edge of waking up. He desperately wanted to stay asleep. It would all fade when he opened his eyes. The dream felt so real to him, so much like he was used to.

His cock hardened even more as he imagined a tongue swirling around the head, a hand reaching lower to massage his balls. He lifted his hips and thrusted into the skilled mouth stretched around his cock. How horny did you have to be to dream about blowjobs? He rolled his eyes behind his lids. _Perv_ , he thought to himself. But if was rolling his eyes…

His eyes shot open. He was, in fact, wide awake, and there was most certainly someone between his legs giving him one pretty damn good blowjob.

He propped himself up on his elbows, eyes widening. He was just about to throw this person off him when their hand landed on his exposed stomach, and Ian’s breath flew from his chest. He knew those tattoos.

“Mickey?”

The head stopped bobbing, pulling off and leaving him standing spit-slick and hard. It lifted slowly, inky hair giving way to piercing ice-blue eyes.

“Miss me?”

Ian gasped sharply. Without even thinking, he grabbed Mickey by the shirt and pulled him up to meet his lips, kissing him hard and almost angrily. He ran his hands all over the boy, going from his chest to his cup his face up to tangle in his hair down to squeeze his ass to come back up to wrap around his torso and hold him to his chest, all the while never letting his lips leave his own. Mickey did the same, wrapping one hand around Ian’s neck and curving the other around the back of his shoulder and locking him against himself. Ian didn’t even care that his erection was digging into Mickey’s leg and leaving wet trails across his jeans. In that moment, he honestly couldn’t care less.

“What are you doing here?” Ian mumbled against Mickey’s lips.

Mickey finally pulled away with a smirk. “We had a deal.”

Ian cocked an eyebrow.

“I told you I’d suck your dick whenever you wanted.”

Ian laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

“You gonna let me finish, or…” Mickey trailed off, and Ian shook his head vehemently.

“Fuck, no.”

Mickey frowned, until Ian moved to kneel between his thighs, unbuckling his belt and ripping it off.

“We got a lot of time to make up for. You can blow me later,” He explained, still working at Mickey’s jeans as he leaned in to whisper hotly in his ear, “Right now I just wanna bury myself in your ass until you scream,” He gloated, licking a stripe up Mickey’s neck when he was finished.

Mickey shuddered beneath him. “Fuck,” He said with a lusty smile, stripping off his shirt while Ian tugged his jeans down his thighs. He ripped Ian’s off, too, and pulled him down for another hot and heavy kiss before he rolled over, sticking his ass in the air for him.

Ian moaned at the sight. He’d been without Mickey for so long, and now he was everywhere. He was close enough to touch, so Ian did. He ran a palm over the curve of one of Mickey’s ass cheeks, laid himself against him and sucked a deep bruise into the skin on his neck. He grabbed Mickey’s hips and hauled him to his hands and knees.

Mickey grunted as Ian worked him open, first with one finger, then two, then three. He was thankful that he still had a bottle of lube in his backpack from all the times he’d slept over at Trevor’s.

“Jesus Christ, Ian,” Mickey groaned as Ian worked his fingers inside him.

Ian pulled his fingers from Mickey’s stretched hole, replacing them with his achingly hard cock, pushing in all the way, until Mickey ass was pressed against his hips and both boys were panting and moaning.

Ian set his forehead between Mickey’s shoulderblades to catch his breath for a second. “Fuck, you feel amazing, Mickey. I’ve missed this so fucking much. Love your ass.”

Mickey bit his lip and grunted in response as Ian drew out and back in. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” He grunted, low and gravelly in his chest. That sound made Ian blush. Mickey made the best sounds, grunts and groans that had Ian hardening even more than he thought was possible.

Ian sped up, pounding into Mickey as fast as he could. Part of him wanted to go slow and savor this, but he knew he couldn’t. He needed this, and Mickey did, too. Hard and fast and dirty was what they did best.

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey whimpered, sweat beading up all over his body. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ last,” He warned, voice straining as he struggled to hold it together.

“It’s okay, neither am I,” Ian panted. Being buried in Mickey was something so familiar, like second nature. It was where Ian felt happiest.

Ian snapped his hips harder and harder, leaving Mickey’s ass red with the most beautiful welts he’d ever seen.

“I’m gonna cum like, _now_ ,” Mickey told Ian, his voice hitching as his orgasm approached faster and faster.

Ian kept one hand on Mickey’s hip, and he buried the other in his hair, pulling roughly. He leaned forward, pressing into Mickey everywhere he could and bit his neck. He traded his fast thrusts for long, hard, deep ones, drawing out and pushing in, then rolling his hips when he bottomed out, rubbing against Mickey’s prostate intensely.

Mickey made a noise high in his throat when he finally came without being touched, and as soon as Ian felt his ass clench around his cock, he too came, spurting inside Mickey with one last deep thrust.

Their breathing fell in sync as they both rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms, bodies still spasming slightly.

“Holy fuck, Mick.”

“Yeah,” Mickey gasped as he pulled away from Ian and collapsed onto the tiny twin mattress, leaning up against the pillows Ian had put there weeks ago. Ian did the same, but he laid himself right on top of the boy, sticking a leg between his and nestling his head into the space under Mickey’s chin. Mickey hummed contently, happy that his arms were around Ian again. He lit up a cigarette.

“Every time I think we’ve had the best sex ever, we manage to top it.”

Ian laughed softly. “What are you doing here, Mickey?” He whispered against Mickey’s sweat-damp skin. He pressed his nose to the crook of Mickey's neck and inhaled. HE smelled that same, and it made Ian's heart ache in the best possible way.

“I told you.”

Ian leaned back to look Mickey in the eyes. “Is that really the only reason?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Of fuckin’ course not!”

Ian smiled and nuzzled back against Mickey’s neck.

“I came back because we both needed it. I needed you, you needed me. It’s that simple. I can’t be without you. I tried more than once, and every time I tried, I felt like half of me was missing. Because it was. You’re the other piece of me, Ian. A piece I can’t go on without. I didn-”

Mickey stopped mid-word, his eyes landing on Ian's chest. Ian raised an eyebrow, until he remembered what was there. Mickey's breath caught in his throat.

"You like it?" Ian whispered, leaning back so Mickey could see it more clearly.

Mickey reached a hand over and set his fingertips against the lines on Ian's chest, the 2 M's inked right over his heart. They weren't big and gaudy, not in any stupid swirly font, with no unnecessary linework or shadows. They were dark and bold, about two inches wide by an inch tall, in a simple font that contrasted beautifully with Ian's pale skin. "I love it," Mickey whispered back, breathless. He leaned down and kissed the tattoo gently, sitting back up with a soft smile.

Ian smiled back for just a second, then sighed. He knew this feeling of nirvana couldn’t last forever. “What are we gonna do?”

Mickey sighed, too. “I don’t know. I don’t know how long it’ll be if I turn myself in.”

“I think escape is a Class 2 Felony. Three to seven years, added to the primary sentence.”

Mickey blew out a heavy breath. “Man, eighteen years,” He said sadly, gripping Ian tighter.

“If we're lucky. Twenty-two if we're not."

"What about reduced time for good behavior?"

Ian tilted his head. "I've been doing my research. If you keep 100% straight and narrow, you can get up to 54 days off per year of your sentence. Eighteen year sentence, 54 days a year comes to..." Ian trailed off, turning his eyes skyward as he did the math in his head. "972 days, which is-"

"Which is a little over two and a half years," Mickey finished Ian's thought. "Brings it back down to about fifteen, and I already got a year and a half of that under my belt," He said with a shrug.

"You're not exactly a model inmate," Ian reasoned.

"I could be, if it means gettin' out three years early."

Ian tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. “What are our other options?”

Mickey shrugged, and Ian bobbed with his movements. “Stay where we are. I just gotta fly under the radar.”

“For the rest of your life?”

“You know the people around here. They don’t snitch.”

“Yeah, but this is where the cops expect you to be. Even if you lay low, it’s only a matter of time.”

Mickey bit his lip as he thought. “We can leave, like we were gonna.”

Ian’s stomach turned as he thought. “I’d go,” He said softly.

Mickey looked down at him. “Really?” He asked, and Ian knew what was behind that word.

He kissed Mickey’s chest. “I made that mistake once. I’m not doing it again. If you wanna go that route, I’m with you. For real this time.”

Mickey smiled and leaned down to kiss Ian’s forehead. He blew out a breath when he sat back. “Cambodia. Indonesia, Morocco, Russia, Vietnam, Lebanon. All countries without an extradition treaty with the US.”

Ian wrinkled his nose. “Those are our options?”

Mickey shrugged. “Some of the better ones.”

Ian sighed. “It’s up to you, Mick. Turn yourself in, flee, try to hide. I’ll stick with you whatever you decide.”

Mickey shook his head. “It’s not _my_ decision, it’s _ours_. We just went over this; there is no me or you. Just us.”

Ian smiled and sank even further into Mickey’s skin. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that? Since I was 15, you’ve been all I’ve ever wanted.”

Mickey grimaced. “Sorry it took so long on my end.”

Ian kissed Mickey’s chest again. “So what’s it gonna be?”

“Not tonight,” Mickey said, licking his lips. “We don’t have to decide right now. I don’t want to.” He slid down the pillows until he was on his side, still wrapped in Ian. “Right now, I just want to be here. With you again. Like we used to be. This is where it feels right. That bullshit can wait for the morning. Tonight it’s just us.”

Ian smiled his lopsided smile, and suddenly he was 15 again. Mickey leaned forward and kissed those lips.

The morning could wait. He’d been promising Ian for months that there would be a next time they’d be together. Next time was now. This might be their last night together, not separated by bars or plexiglass. And he wasn’t gonna waste it.

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE YOU GUY APPRECIATE ME BECAUSE I DID RESEARCH FOR THIS! First, I had to find out which bipolar meds actually cause limp dick (spoiler alert; it's the antidepressants, not the Lithium) and THEN I HAD THE STUPID TASK OF TRYING TO FIND OUT HOW MUCH TIME ESCAPING FROM PRISON WILL ADD TO AN EXISTING SENTENCE AND TO DO THAT I HAD TO FIND OUT WHAT CLASS OF FELONY IT IS AND YOUD THINK THAT WOULD BE AN EASY THING TO GOOGLE, RIGHT? SPOILER ALERT: IT ISN'T! I just got a ton of websites asking if I needed a lawyer!  
> But anyway, I hope you guys like like it!
> 
> Also, I take requests and prompts! Let me know what you'd like to see [here](http://ieroween1031.tumblr.com/ask)!


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